


fairytales of yesterday will grow but never die

by dustywords



Series: tale of vicious circles [3]
Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/F, i have completely disregarded canon with this part, time to finish this fix-it-fic project
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-15
Updated: 2018-03-26
Packaged: 2019-03-19 05:30:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 19,004
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13697844
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dustywords/pseuds/dustywords
Summary: Emma Swan is dead. Except that she isn't, not really, and instead she has to complete one last mission before the time travel is truly finished. Featuring a dagger, a former-ghost and a not-so-dead dragon.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> holy shit, it's been a really long time. what can i say? i actually didn't think i would return to this hot mess of a fix-it-fic project i started YEARS ago. well, here i am. ready to finish it. 
> 
> so what happened?
> 
> (1) a friend reminded me of how we never really got a proper dark swan story and  
> (2) once upon a time got cancelled, motivating me to finish this project. i just hate leaving things unfinished. 
> 
> pls re-read the first two parts if you don't remember anything. (if anyone even still remembers this series, har-har-har.) i had to re-read both of them, too, before i jumped back into writing this thing.
> 
> LET'S DO THIS!

Rumpelstiltskin wakes with a start and immediately knows that he’s being watched. At first, he assumes— _hopes_ —that Belle might have come back to collect a few things she’s left behind when she hurriedly packed her things hours ago after saying, “I can’t look at you right now.” The hope is small and pathetic and he thinks better of it when his eyes adjust to the darkness in his small bedroom.

It’s not Belle.

The blue hue of her magic gives her away.

Rumple sits up, slowly and a little unsteady. His leg is killing him, as is his lower back. “Blue,” he croaks out, not bothering to hide his amusement. He knows exactly why she is here.

The Blue Fairy uses her wand to illuminate the room in a cold blue-ish light. “Dark One,” she greets back, not half as polite as Rumple pretends to be. The light draws long shadows on her round face that is designed to look friendly and fool them all. Except him, of course. He knows better than this. “I’m surprised you are asleep when a big shift in the power grid of magic just happened,” she scoffs.

Rumple regards her and her growing smugness on her face. “Maybe I am just a man who has nothing to worry about,” he says and clenches his hand into a fist. He knows that the fairy in front of him—who isn’t even a fairy to begin with—is right. His limbs feel weak and wobbly; the humming power of magic beneath his skin is gone. He remembers it, he just can’t access it anymore.

He doesn’t even have to look at his dagger to know what happened.

But instead of being frustrated by it, he lives up to his words and smiles. It’s a small smile, but genuine. Enough so to unnerve the dark being in front of him.

Reul Ghorm snarls at him, her dark eyes glowing strangely in the blue light of her wand filling his room. “You have no idea what that means, imp. You are rendered powerless and soon what you lost will be mine,” she vows and disappears in a dark cloud of magic. It smells like ash and death, and he finds that he hates it.

Still, he keeps on smiling because he knows something no one else does.

He sits up and rubs his lower back to lessen the pain there. He has some work to do, places to visit and things to arrange.

With a deep sigh, he gets up. He turns the lights on before he opens the top drawer of his bedside table, and takes out the dagger that ruled his life for so many centuries, carefully wrapped in a soft, red cloth. As expected, his name is no longer engraved in the jagged blade—and there is no new name, yet. If it ever will have one again, he thinks and covers the blade with the red fabric again. That part is still up in the air—sort of. He sighs.

With some difficulty and a lot of old, chronic pain coming back he manages to get dressed and limp through his unlit shop, towards the door. The dagger is resting inside his inner pocket of his black winter coat.

The walk to the mansion takes him a long time. He could’ve taken the car, but there are things to think about. What he is about to do will change the course of things, hopefully. He failed to complete the one thing he wanted to accomplish—to find his son and keep him away from harm. But there’s other unfinished business and while he is confident to already have bested the imposter fairy in her own game, he has to make sure he’s right.

His labored breath comes out as a white mist in the cold winter air and he wonders, briefly, if he maybe should’ve focused only on his revenge on the fairy instead of trying to do both—reuniting with his son while making that demon find out what suffering really meant. Would Bae still be alive if the Dark Curse had never been cast, if he had taken care of that wretched being in their old homeland?

Rumple reaches the mansion after his long walk through the silent, sleeping town. The windows are dark and there is no sign of life inside the house. And while his access to magic is probably permanently gone, he’s used it for so long that he still feels it on his skin, recognizes the familiarity in Regina’s magic that seems to greet him or warn him the closer he gets.

And then he is right in front of the door and he takes a deep breath.

He uses his cane to knock.

 

*

 

Someone’s calling her name.

Emma is aware that she is lying on her back, the hard ground digging into her shoulder blades, but her mind can’t make sense of that. Her last thoughts are still ringing through her mind, echoing around like an almost forgotten dream. The memories of the Dark Curse surrounding her promptly pop into her head.

She’s dead.

Or at least, she thought she was going to die. The imp has told her as much—then again, he was known to be a notorious liar. She doesn’t _feel_ very dead, if she’s honest but then again she’s never died before, so who knows?

When she opens her eyes it’s Zelena’s face up close that greets her. “Gods, duckling, you really take your sweet time to wake up,” she grumbles, leaning back a little. Her voice sounds annoyed, but there is relief in her eyes that betrays her.

Emma glares at her while sitting up. “What are you doing here? Is this hell?” She looks around and tries to guess where she might be. It seems to be some sort of high-ceiling cave, dark and scarcely lit by some torches that are lined up on the uneven stone walls. There is a cold, wet quality to the air, as if they’re somewhere deep underground. And something else, something that seems almost familiar and yet Emma can’t put her finger on it.

Emma’s stomach sinks. “Seriously, where are we?”

“Do I look like I would frequent a place like this?” Zelena asks back, waving with her hand around. “I have no idea where we are,” she adds, as if it wasn’t obvious from her snide comment. Or maybe to lessen the blow. “To be honest, I’m not even sure why I _am_ here—with you, out of all people.”

“Hey, I didn’t ask for any of this.”

“You did save that imprisoned maid, though.”

“Was I supposed to just let her die?”

“Tell me, dearest Emma, would you have saved her life if you had known what misery it would bring you?”

Emma, who is still sitting on the ground with bent knees to rest her hands on them sighs. “I don’t know. Maybe? I mean…” She trails off. “Who gives a damn? None of this answers my question.”

Zelena looks at her with a thoughtful gaze. “Maybe that’s why I’m here,” she mutters to herself, not making much sense in Emma’s eyes. “I started the time travel and you finished it.”

“You mean, we’re connected now?”

“Maybe.” Zelena tries very hard to sound like this is the last thing she wants to be true, but again it’s her eyes that betray her.

Emma gets to her feet and notices that she is still rocking that guard outfit of the Evil Queen’s guard she stole in a different time, different world. Or maybe they are still in the Enchanted Forest, just a different place? Maybe they are still traveling through time? “Are we sure we are dead?”

“What do you mean?”

“Let’s assume we aren’t dead for a sec here. What if we are just on another time travel errand?”

“Without your darling boy and that stranger, you sacrificed your own future for?”

“Hey, what did I just say—”

“We could explore this place,” Zelena thinks out loud and shrugs. “It’s not like we have many options to choose from. I imagine that’s how we’ll find out why we’re here and… if we are alive or not.”

Emma sighs. Unlike Zelena, who’s been a ghost for the duration of their time travel, she is not eager to start her afterlife in some dark cave. If this is the afterlife, that is. Emma imagined feeling different, and yet she feels… still like herself. Still Emma, somehow lost in more ways than one. Which is also nothing truly new, but kind of disappointing all things considered. You’d think that after dying you could find some rest.

Unless this _is_ hell.

Before she can share her thoughts on Zelena’s suggestion, a voice booms through the cave, a haunting echo of a deep, dark voice. “Stay where you are,” it says, loud and clear. A command spoken by someone used to be listened to.

It sounds nothing like Rumple’s maniac giggling or bemused voice explaining some magical nonsense to them. It sounds powerful and dangerous; something that makes Emma’s skin crawl.

Zelena and Emma look at each other, inching a little closer to each other, but not close enough to touch. Although, Emma notes a little distracted, she can feel Zelena’s body warmth, which means that she really isn’t a ghost anymore.

Huh.

A dark, cloaked figure appears from the shadows and seems to glide over the wet cave ground. When the being is right in front of them, it takes off its cloak—only to reveal a skeleton underneath it. The empty eye holes of the skull seem to look right into Emma’s soul.

Emma shivers. “Who are you?” she asks and tilts her head a little.

“I’m the guardian of this realm, Emma,” the skeleton answers, a smile coloring the rich, deep voice. “Welcome to the Underworld!”

“The _what_?” Emma and Zelena ask in unison.

Well, shit.

 

*

 

Henry stares out of the window, trying to find something to focus on in the darkness of the night. Only the streetlamps lined up on Mifflin and Main Street are lit, the rest of Storybrooke seems to be completely dark—almost invisible to him.

His eyes start to burn again for no apparent reason. He hasn’t even thought about her, and yet—

Henry rubs his eyes with an angry movement and leans his forehead against the cool glass of his window. He wonders if his mom can sleep, and if it would be rude to go and try to sleep in her bed like he did so often as a little boy. His room is stuffed with memories of his time _before_ he lost his memories and went to New York with a new set of memories in his head—a time, where Emma was still—where she—

He sighs to swallow the dry sob. His throat hurts. One moment everything seemed to work well, and the next everything fell apart. He remembers Marian’s stunned look and his breathless silence when they both realized that no one else came with them back to Storybrooke through the now closed time portal.

He jumps off the chair he’s shoved under his window to sit on, and tiptoes out of his room, across the hall to find his mom’s bedroom. The door isn’t closed, as if she knew that sooner or later he would give up on trying to fall asleep on his own. He knows that his cred as a cool teenager should suffer from this move, going to your parent’s bedroom because you can’t sleep alone, but he just lost another parent (again) to magic, so.

Who cares?

He slips into her room and slowly approaches the bed. “Mom?”

His mom turns around and blinks at him, but more in a surprised than sleepy way. “Come here,” she whispers and sits up. She lifts her blanket and draws him closer with her arm, leaning her head against his. “Have you slept at all?” she asks next, stroking his hair with her hand.

He simply shakes his head no.

“Henry,” she sighs and kisses his forehead. Her voice sounds heavy with…something. “Do you want…I mean, if you need to talk about…”

“I just want her back,” he whispers back and feels new tears well in his eyes. “It’s not fair!”

His mom says nothing, just hugs him closer and tries to hide her own uneven breathing.

At first, Henry is sure to have imagined that sound but when his mom pulls away with furrowed brows and a worried look in her eyes, he knows that she heard it, too.

Someone is knocking at their door.

“It’s past three in the morning, who the hell would knock at my door at this hour?” his mom curses and gets up, slips into her dressing gown and gives him a short look. “Wait here.”

He shakes his head and follows her.

His mom says nothing and turns the lights on in the hallway when the knocking starts again. “I’m coming!” she yells while descending the stairs, combing with her fingers through her tousled hair. She turns on the light in the hall and starts unlocking the locks of the entrance door, while Henry hangs back on the first step of the staircase. Only dressed in his PJs and socks he feels a little cold, decides to ignore it for the moment, though.

His mom opens the door and—

“Your Majesty,” Gold greets with a mock salute. The other hand is holding the cane that he is obviously leaning on. “May I come in?”

“No, you may not. What the hell are you doing here _at this hour_?” His mom’s voice sounds venomous. “After all the lies you’ve told us, who the hell do you think you are that—”

“Dark times are coming and I need to ask you a favor.”

Henry can barely believe his ears.

And neither can his mom. “What?”

“There is a mutual enemy in this town that will try to use Emma’s absence for her own gain—a being you probably heard of and that has been here all along, waiting and scheming. Now she thinks her time has come, and we must get ready. It will get ugly, no matter if she’s right about her destiny or not.”

His mom hesitates a moment as if considering his words and then steps aside, wordlessly motioning with her hand for Rumple to enter. He looks older the moment he steps into the bright lights of the hall, his face looks drawn and pale, his eyes seem restless. He gives Henry a tired smile and Henry half expects to be asked to leave these two alone. No one makes such a demand. Instead, they both follow his mom into the study, where she lights the fireplace with the snap of her fingers and turns the light on her desk on.

Rumple sits down, still dressed in his coat that he refuses to take off.

Henry picks the armchair closest to the fireplace to warm up a little. His mom takes the armchair across from him.

“Now, why don’t you just tell me what is going on instead of going through your tiresome vague motions to make yourself seem more important than you are?”

Rumple smiles. Something is different about him. “Haven’t you noticed it, yet?” he asks back, leaning back a little.

Henry watches how realization starts to bloom on his mom’s face. “Your magic is—”

“Gone, yes,” Rumple confirms with a small nod and leans forward again. “And now I need you to guard something for me, seeing as I am no longer able to do it myself.” He reaches into his coat and takes out an object that is wrapped in a red piece of fabric.

“Your dagger,” his mom guesses.

With the flick of his hand the cloth wrapped around the object falls open and reveals the dagger of the Dark One—with no name on it.

Henry meets Rumple’s eyes. “What happened? Why is there no name on it?”

“The time travel changed many, many things. Not just regarding our present, but our future. Things were set into motion that were dormant for many years.” His knowing smile makes something clench in Henry’s stomach. He remembers all the times past-Rumpelstiltskin sent them on errands or helped them fulfill a task—and he wonders not for the first time what the point of it all was.

And if the price was worth it. 

“What did you do?” his mom asks with growing suspicion in her voice while she reaches for the dagger and weighs it in her hands, as if to check if it’s real. And well, after the stunt that Rumple pulled with Belle and that fake dagger—it’s not the weirdest thing to do.

Rumple simply smiles at her skepticism. “Reul Ghorm will try to get her hands on this dagger.”

His mom’s head snaps up. “Did you just say—”

“She’s been here, all this time, waiting for an opportunity to strike. And with Emma gone for the moment as counter balance to her powers, she will take this opportunity to challenge everything we know. This town, the magic holding it together—she’ll seek to destroy it, feeding on the power of destruction. She’s taken over what little good magic was left inside the body she’s taken hostage over so many decades ago, and with town at its weakest right now, she won’t have much trouble trying to reach her goals.”

“And you are just now remembering all these things, and caring enough to share them with us?” his mom starts, anger clear and evident in her voice. And something else. “You lied to us from the beginning, and now—”

“If you had known about this before, do you think Reul Ghorm would have let you live? She might still come for you, fearing that the powers of the Dark One will pick you as its next host.”

“Could that happen?” Henry asks in an alarmed voice.

His mom seems lost in thought.

Rumple shakes his head and gives him a small smile. “The powers are already reserved for someone else. It’s been meant to happen even before the curse was cast, I’ve seen to it. Neither Reul Ghorm, nor the person destined for it know about this, though. It comes in handy from time to time to seem unhinged and power hungry,” Rumple says with a light shrug. “I give you my word.”

Henry sinks a little deeper into the armchair, Emma’s words ringing in his ears. How they will never find peace in this town, because everything is stacked against them. He wonders what Emma would do now. He finds that he misses her and it hurts. It keeps hurting.

And then he realizes something else. “Wait a minute. What do you mean Emma is ‘gone for the moment’?”

His mom looks up from the dagger in her hand and her eyes jump back and forth between him and Rumple.

Rumple sighs. “You didn’t really think I would allow the Savior to just die on a time travel, now did you?”

His mom groans. “You lying piece of—”

“Emma will be back, I have no doubts about it. Only the _when_ is a mystery to me. Could be hours, days, even weeks. Until then, we must take matters into our own hands and try to buy Emma some time. Reul Ghorm will not wait for long. She has already abandoned her charade of being a good and dutiful fairy, and is now without any doubt gathering her powers she’s had to put to rest for so long.” Rumple sighs again when he shifts in his seat. “Emma will be back but we have to make sure there is still a Storybrook she can come home to.”

“And how do you want to do that?” his mom asks.

“Pretend that Emma won’t come back, for starters,” Rumple suggests in his low voice. “You have to keep it a secret. Don’t tell anyone what I just told you, don’t even mention the dagger. Especially not to Emma’s parents. Reul Ghorm knows that my name is no longer on it, feeling confident that she will now be able to gain access to the powers that supposedly were freed from the dagger through Emma’s death. I am here to warn you to protect yourself, but also to protect the dagger, no matter what.”

“What does Emma have to do with the Dark One’s dagger?” His mom tilts her head a little, her dark eyes completely focused on Rumple.

Henry watches how Rumple’s thin lips widen into a smile, revealing his crooked teeth. “Everything.”

 

*

 

“Why are we here?” Emma asks not for the first time. After clearing up that, yes, this is really the Underworld that kind of follows the idea of being a place for the dead to pass through, Emma has tried to get some more information out of that mysterious being in front of her. Like a name, for starters. Or why he decided to drop such a dramatic entrance on them.

“Because you were sent here,” the skeleton replies. “Magic brought you here, and magic is what you will find here. I am guarding it, protecting what others might try to steal.”

Zelena, utterly unimpressed with the skeleton (or at least pretending to be so), rolls once more her eyes. “Now tell us something that is actually useful. We still know nothing about you, yet you seem to know everything about us.”

“I am the beginning and end of all things,” the skeleton says, his teeth clattering together. “All in good time. First, let me give you a small tour of this place. People often wonder what they might find after death, yet it all depends on them to begin with.”

Emma sucks in her lower lip and releases a long breath. “Look, Mr. Skeleton, I just want to know how we can get out of here again. We shouldn’t be here. We died in a different timeline,” Emma tries to explain, not for the first time.

The skeleton, always grinning, stares at her. “Time isn’t fixed, dear Emma. You should know it best.”

“I should?”

“You adjusted the past to make the present time you left behind for your quest possible. Time moves, bends, slows down—but never stops.”

Zelena isn’t even trying to make her impatient groans disguise as long sighs anymore. “What my polite yet dense friend here is trying to get across is that we are not meant to be dead. At least, where I am concerned. I was unjustly murdered. She chose to do something stupid that got her here, so by all means, keep her, if you must.”

Emma gives her a dirty look. “Traitor.”

“You had to get that woman out of her cell and drag her with us.”

“Would you stop dragging me for that, _again_? Asshole.”

“What does my sister see in you?” Zelena asks herself and shakes her head with a dramatic sigh. “Not surprised about the pirate seeing something in you, though.”

Emma swallows an annoyed groan, shifts and turns to the skeleton who is watching them with clear amusement dancing in her empty eye holes. “You said you are the beginning and end. So, why are we here? Our story isn’t over yet.”

“Emma, why do you keep asking the same, stupid—”

“You aren’t dead, my dear friends,” the skeleton interrupts Zelena before she can expand on the profanities. “You are merely guests. Taking a deep breath before your time snaps back into action.”

“Wait, what?” Emma feels lost again. Each cryptic answer frustrates her more, but she’s too dependent on the explanations of this weird man to just walk out on him—and where would she go? Trying to find the exit of this cave seems pointless. If there is an exit, that is. “But Rumpelstiltskin said—”

“Ah, the Dark One,” the being laughs. “Or should I say, former Dark One?”

That does catch Zelena’s undivided attention. “What?”

“I seem to have miscalculated your depth of knowledge on this matter,” the being suddenly admits with an apologetic tone. “Please, follow me while I explain.”

Emma and Zelena share an uncomfortable look while the skeleton in front of them starts walking towards the looming darkness in front of them.

“Might as well,” Emma says with a shoulder shrug and starts to follow what Emma suspects to be Death.

Zelena sighs, but trails after Emma, anyway.

 

*

 

Hook is glaring at his now empty rum glass. The bar keeper keeps giving him dirty looks. Maybe he should start paying his tab he has opened here a few weeks ago. Or was it months? He waves with his empty glass in the bar keeper’s direction, who promptly looks away, suddenly very busy cleaning a dirty glass.

“Looks like you have some troubles getting what you want,” a female voice suddenly speaks up next to him and when Hook turns his head, his vision starting to get a little blurry around the edges, he has to stare a little at the fairy in front of him to realize that yes, this is really the one and only Blue Fairy talking to him.

“What do you want? The convent wine not strong enough anymore, eh?” Hook asks with a condescending little chuckle and tries once again to catch the bar keeper’s attention.

“I have a proposition to make,” the fairy says and sits down on the empty bar stool next to his. “And I think you are the right kind of person to listen to what I have to offer.”

“No, thanks.”

“I beg your pardon?”

Hook looks her up and down to make his point clear. “I’m not interested. Maybe after two more drinks, then we could talk about this again.”

“You drunken fool.” The fairy sighs, as if disappointed in herself for talking to Hook. Wait, what?

“What?” he asks, confused about what is going on. “If that’s not what you are after, then what is it you want from me?”

“I need you to steal something. And since I am positive you hate that imp just as much as I do, I am sure we’ll reach an agreement tonight.”

Hook thinks about her words for a little while. “You want me to steal something from the imp?”

“His dagger, to be precise,” the fairy says in a low voice, her words almost swallowed by the awful music they play in this bar. “He is powerless, don’t worry. The time travel he so readily supported backfired and his son is still dead and buried, his plan failed.”

Now that catches his attention. “He sent Swan through this portal for that?”

The fairy laughs and with one snip of her fingers the bar keeper is right in front of her. “Get him another drink, I’m paying.”

“All of them?”

“Just this one.”

The bar keeper sighs but gets to work anyway.

Hook leans in closer, shaking her shoulder a little. “I asked you something, fairy.”

“Of course, he sent the Savior on this fool’s errand. But I tricked him, a long time ago and he is just now realizing it. See, the Dark Curse was written by a dark, powerful being called Reul Ghorm. Safely hidden in the script is a loophole that strips the Dark One from his powers should the Dark Curse be broken and the Savior be killed. I honestly thought the Evil Queen would kill the Savior sooner, but…well, that’s not important now. What is important is that the imp is powerless now.”

Hook jumps from his stool before he even realizes he is moving. The empty glass he’s been twirling with his hand around shatters on the floor. The bar keeper only sighs. “So what you are telling me is that the imp killed Swan?”

The bar grows silent. It’s frequented by simple people, but even they know who Emma Swan is. Most of them attended her funeral a few days ago.

“That…can’t be happening again,” he stutters, bile rising in his throat. “She was my True Love. And he’s taken her from me, it was him again just like with—!” He slumps back down on his bar stool.

The fairy makes a weird face. He thinks he can see pity in there, and something else. “I know, it’s a real shame he stole that away from you. Again. Which is why I thought you’d like to help me finish him. See, you are not the only one who was robbed off something by him.” She looks away, right in time to see how the bar keeper places Hook’s new drink on the counter. “So, what do you say?”

“Do I get to skin my crocodile?”

The fairy leans in closer. “My dear pirate, once you hand me over his dagger you can do with him whatever you’d like.”

Hook downs his drink in one go. “Well then. Where do I find that dreadful dagger?”

The Blue Fairy smiles with a glint in her eyes. Then she reaches into her coat pocket and takes out a small, plain satchel. “First, you will get rid of the Evil Queen. No doubt she’s helping your crocodile after she bought once more his lies. This should speed things up, a powder to put her in a coma for at least a day. All she has to do is breath it in and, voilà—the queen and her magic are out of the way, giving us enough time.”

“And then what, I just bring you the dagger?” Hook asks, suspicious on how he will get his end of the bargain.

The fairy seems unperturbed by his caution. “The dagger is proof to your loyalty to me. Get it done, and I will help you to get rid of your problem once and for all.”

“What about—”

“The Savior?” the fairy guesses, her lips widening into something that is closer to a grimace than a genuine gesture of empathy. “I might do something about her death, too.”

Hook’s heart is pounding almost as hard as his head will in the morning. “I believe we have a bargain, then,” he says taking the satchel from her hand.

The fairy’s smile shows her brilliant white teeth. “I am so very happy to hear that.”

*

 

The skeleton leads them into narrow passageway that invites them deeper and deeper into the cave—or the Underworld. Emma is glad for the torches lighting their way, and for Zelena’s quiet presence behind her. She’d never admit it out loud, though.

And Zelena wouldn’t want her to, anyway.

“I assume you have no idea in what mess you’ve been thrown into, do you?” the skeleton suddenly asks, his voice cheerful and amused.

“No, it’s what I’ve been trying to get out of you,” Emma grumbles back.

“Very mature,” Zelena comments from behind.

Emma throws her a dark look over the shoulder.

The skeleton laughs. “It is not so terribly complicated. Well, not to me, anyway. You will soon understand.” He comes to a halt and turns his head to stare at them. “Right this way,” he announces and uses his clattering hand to show them a door that wasn’t there before.

At least Emma thinks the door wasn’t there before. “What are you talking about? You make zero sense, Joe Black.”

“Joe Black?”

“Oh, forget it. What’s behind that door?” Emma eyes it with curiosity. “A surprise?”

“Emma,” Zelena says with a long-suffering sigh. “Please, stop being so dense.”

Emma ignores her.

The skeleton appears to be still highly amused by them. “My friends, the truth is awaiting you behind this door. The truth of what was, what is, and what will be.”

“Great. So like a magical fortune cookie?”

“Emma!”

Emma glares back at Zelena. “He is making fun of us with his cryptic bullshit. Just like Rumple did during our time travel.”

“I really am not,” the skeleton starts to defend himself.

“You have no idea what is going on, you really think it is wise to make fun of the only person that can help us, ugly duckling? A person that is actual Death?”

“Stop calling me that!”

“The door,” the skeleton tries again, slowly lowering his clattering bony hand. “You just have to go through it.”

“You are right. You are a _stupid_ duckling, my apologies.” Zelena doesn’t even pretend to be sorry for anything.

The skeleton sighs.

Emma scoffs at Zelena, not paying attention to the skeleton. “You are no help at all! All your speeches about being better than Regina and you know shit about magic.”

“Take that back!”

“No! Unless you finally stop making fun of me and start being useful!”

“STOP!” the skeleton yells, both of his hands clenched into bony fists. For the first time since meeting him he seems dangerous and creepy. Well, more so than during his grand entrance scene. The shadow behind him seems to grow, embrace him like a cape and the burning torches flicker nervously around him.

Emma inches away from him, coincidentally getting closer to Zelena who appears to be just as speechless as Emma.

The skeleton relaxes, the shadow slowly shrinking back to its normal shape and form. The torches burn just as radiantly as before. “Thank you for your attention. As I was saying, there is a lot of things you don’t know yet, but it will change once you step through this door. All the answers you are missing are in there.”

“Why can’t you just walk us through every answer we need?” Emma asks almost defiantly, crossing her arms in front of her chest.

The skeleton tilts his head a little. “Where would be the fun in that, Emma? The effort of finding the answers yourself makes the newly acquired wisdom more long-lasting, I believe.”

“He does sound a little like the imp,” Zelena admits in a low voice behind Emma. “Fine. By all means, show us what you are hiding behind that magical door.”

“After you,” he says and the door swings open with him touching it. It reveals a room, or more like a hole carved out of the dark stone of the cave. The torches lining the uneven walls ignite themselves when Emma takes a tentative step forward, staring in open-mouthed disbelief at how empty this hall is.

Only in the middle a long, jagged sword, shining with the same dark hue as the cave walls is stuck in a boulder, which seems to grow out of the ground, right in the middle of this empty space. Not much of the blade can be seen, suggesting that someone used inhuman force to get it to its current position.

Or magic.

Emma steps closer, realizing that the sword seems somehow familiar.

“It looks like Rumple’s dagger,” Zelena notes with faint fascination in her voice.

Emma takes another look and has to admit that Zelena is right. She turns around to ask the skeleton what the hell this means, but no one else is there. “Hello?” She takes a few steps back towards the still open door that promptly closes in her face. Motherfucker—

Well, apparently, she is forced stay here.

“He has other business to attend to than taking care of two bickering children,” a female voice says. Emma has never heard it before and yet—she shivers. When she turns around to briefly meet Zelena’s gaze, she notices the silhouette of someone staying in the shadows, the only unlit corner of this weird place.

“Who are you?” Emma asks, not sure what to make of all the sudden developments that have happened in the past—damn, she doesn’t even know how much time has passed since she regained her consciousness.

“No one you ever met. Not like this, at least,” the voice chuckles and finally the body belonging to that voice steps out of the shadows. It is a blonde, older woman, dressed in a black dress with a low-cut cleavage and wearing some weird helmet-alike thing on her head that has…horns.

Oh.

“I’m Maleficent, but you may call me Mal,” she says, just as Emma is putting two and two together.

“Regina’s formerly bestie, how wonderful,” Zelena says with disdain in her voice.

Emma frowns. “Huh?”

Mal makes a waving hand gesture, as if to get rid of a fly that annoys her. “Can we skip that part, please? I am not a woman known for her patience.”

“No, you are known as a dragon,” Zelena says with an overly sweet smile.

 _Oh_.

Of course.

“I killed you,” Emma mumbles and looks away. Suddenly that closed door seems more like a threat than a command to stay in this hall.

Mal catches her gaze and nods with a smile. “You wounded the dragon before the curse was broken, yes. But you didn’t really kill me. Or at least, that is what Hades told me.” She ends her brief explanation with a nonchalant shrug of her shoulders. “It’s why I am stuck here, in this limbo. Just like you are now.”

“The skeleton is Hades?” Zelena asks and starts to laugh. “Bloody hell, I really needed that,” she says out of breath and wipes a tear of laughter away. “This must be a dream. Maybe I am still in that cell in Storybrooke.”

Emma bites her lower lip, not reacting to Zelena’s words. “He said we would find answers in here,” she starts, seeking Mal’s gaze this time. “But instead we meet you, someone with magic who isn’t really dead. Feels like a cheap cop out of explaining things himself.”

“It is ironic how we meet again, little Emma, isn’t it?” Mal thinks out loud, uncrossing her arms and walking closer to them, not once glancing at the very obvious sword inside the room. “You, the reason I am down here, will be the reason I get out of here again.”

“I will?”

“Yes. For a price, of course,” Mal amends in a low voice and points with her hand at the sword.

Zelena makes a weird noise in the back of her throat. “This is the sword belonging to the dagger of—”

“Of the Dark One, yes, I am aware,” Mal interrupts Zelena and earns a hateful glare for that. “This has been written into the foundations of the Dark Curse. Someone to yield the dark power of the Underworld to restore what was lost and put back together what was destroyed. And that someone is you, Emma.”

Emma rubs her temple. “That sounds a lot like some bullshit someone made up who had too much time,” she says with annoyance in her voice.

Mal almost smiles. “You still don’t understand, but how could you, if you barely understand yourself?” There is a dark tone to her voice, something that makes Emma fidget and wish she could just leave. “Before you can become what you are meant to be by the very fabric of the curse that has torn your family and your destiny apart, you have to understand who you are.”

“She’s a moron,” Zelena suggests as if this was the most obvious fact of all. “I will gladly make her understand that.”

Mal doesn’t look impressed. “Regina’s half-sister, and yet you lack so much of her grace. Disappointing.” The sneer is impressive, along with the little head shake that follows. Emma would’ve laughed if the words of Mal weren’t stuck in her head like a knife.

Zelena’s response is a defiant huff, her burden to have compared herself too often with Regina and to be after everything her younger half-sister had had and she’d always longed for come now back in full swing. Emma can see it in the way her shoulders tense up and he gaze drops to the ground.

“How do you know who she is?” Emma asks.

Mal shrugs. “I am very bored down here. Sometimes, Hades allows me to sneak a glance into the world of the living. It is quite interesting, but also so very dull. It’s not the same if you’re isolated down here, while life is happening elsewhere without you.”

“If you are waiting for an apology, I had to kill you to—”

“Emma, I am not even mad. See, Regina always had a sick sense of humor. Of course, she weaponized the savior to get rid of her former close…friend. I’ve had it a long time coming, I suppose.” Mal takes a deep breath. “It is of no concern right now. Let us go back to the actual problem here. And to understand the problem and find the solution for it, you must understand yourself.”

“That is a complicated way to call Emma a problem,” Zelena points out.

“Sounds more like you are calling me a dumbass,” Emma agrees.

“Well, in that case,” Zelena starts, pursing her lips.

Emma shuts her up with a glare.

Mal gives them both a tired look. “Are you two done? Good. Do I have to repeat myself or did you get the part about having to understand yourself before we can get out of this place?”

Emma rolls her eyes. “Relax. Just tell me what I have to do. Do you want me to write a stupid essay about my past?” Emma finally asks, only barely stopping herself from crossing her arms. She doesn’t want to look like a defiant child that is barely containing its temper tantrum.

Mal shakes her head. “It is not something you can know. You weren’t even born yet when it happened,” she says with a sad smile.

That catches Emma off-guard and judging by Zelena’s surprised look she’s not alone with that. “What are you talking about?”

“Did you never wonder how your magic is the way it is? I am sure that by now someone has taken mercy on you and taught you at least the basics.” Mal asks this as if she hadn’t been able to spy on them all from down here. Her knowing smile is an instant give away.

Emma decides to humor her and shrugs. “I could barely control it when I was alive or whatever, so no, I didn’t really think much about that part. I just used it whenever necessary. I’m pragmatic like that.”

Mal’s smile is still there, just as sad. “Everything has a reason. Even your magic and why you’ve been called the product of True Love, filled to the brim with the purest magic of all lands.” Now she sounds mocking.

“That doesn’t sound healthy,” Zelena comments with a snort.

Emma ignores her. “Well, that’s why I am the Savior, right?”

Mal comes even closer. “If only that was true, Emma.”

Emma has barely time to blink before darkness envelops her and swallows her whole.

 

*

 

When Emma opens her eyes again, she is no longer inside the same room, but still in the Underworld. Now, however, there is a dark pond in front of her. Emma furrows her brows and looks to the side to find Zelena there. To her left is Mal, who is staring intently at the black water of the pond that slowly starts to glow. It is unnatural white light, almost hurting Emma’s eyes who are adjusted to torch light and dark cave walls, not bright white lights glowing out of water.

Then the light dims down a little to make room for a crystal clear still of Emma’s parents.

Emma’s parents, who are younger and still their fairytale-selves in that image. Snow is visibly pregnant, one of her hands touching her belly with a fondness that Emma always imagined a parent to feel for her. She looks back to Mal. “Why are you showing me this?” she asks, almost angrily. “Do you want me to see some fucked up what-if version of my life?”

Mal sighs. “No, Emma. I want you to see how your parents paved the path for one of the most powerful curses to sweep this land and change your life forever—not even knowing that they were doing it.”

Now Emma’s confusion has won over her anger. “It makes no sense. My parents had nothing to do with the curse, Regina is the one who—”

“Oh, I am sure Regina thinks she’s this goddess-like being who crafted a town out of nothing and created a dull cursed life for her enemies and tragically, also for herself. What she doesn’t know, though, is that not only did Snow give birth to the Savior foretold to break any curse, but Snow quite literally took an active part in making her child fit that description.” Mal’s voice has that hard edge to it again.

Emma just gapes at her, not really understanding what Mal is saying here. She understands the words, but her mind refuses to understand the message here.

Zelena clears her throat. “May I politely ask what the fuck you are talking about?”

“Do you really believe you are the only child born out of True Love, Emma?” Mal asks her, as if Zelena hadn’t said a word.

Emma swallows hard. “I dunno how that all works. But yeah, that’s what I’ve been told, repeatedly and by various people.”

“You are a moron,” Mal says slowly and gives Zelena a short glance. Then her eyes find Emma’s again. “You weren’t picked to be the Savior through some magical lottery of the Enchanted Forrest, or even by Rumple himself. Your parents deliberately took actions to ensure you would become who you are today. Oh, I am sure they thought they were acting in your best interest back then,” Mal adds and it sounds just as biting as most things she just said that referred to Emma’s parents. “Rumple only took an interest in Snow’s unborn child _after_ that.”

Emma has nothing to say to that. And when she looks back at the scene it has started to move and now someone else enters the picture: the Blue Fairy, soaring in front of her parents with her small wings flapping fast enough to blur. There is no sound to these moving pictures and Emma glances at Mal again.

“Your parents are making a deal with the fairy. Out of fear, your mother decided to get rid of your darkness, a desperate and foolish attempt to prevent what happened to Regina,” Mal explains without needing a further prompt. “Snow always knew that Regina wasn’t always the Evil Queen but instead of trying to find the answers as to what happened to her, she just assumed that dark magic corrupted Regina’s oh so pure soul and turned her into the hateful bitter woman that would cast the Dark Curse one day.”

Emma winces, remains skeptical. “You could tell me anything and I have no proof of knowing if that’s true or if you are lying to me.” That is not completely right, though, and Emma feels guilty the moment she says it. She _knows_ that Regina wasn’t always the Evil Queen—she can still vividly remember the snapshot of Regina’s life as queen at Snow’s father’s side. Lonely and forgotten.

Of course Mal has a point.

“Just wait and you’ll see that sometimes even pictures with no words have a lot to say,” is all Mal replies to that.

Zelena leans closer to Emma, her hair brushing her cheek. “When we get back home we have to talk to Regina about her taste in her ‘friends’,” she whispers into her ear.

Emma tries to shrug her off. “If you doubt they were friends, then what do you care,” she whispers back, glaring at Zelena for distracting her from what could be a game changer, a life altering discovery.

“Oh, Emma,” Zelena says with a deep sigh, not elaborating further on that. Good.

Emma decides to focus back on the new scene in front of her. The fairy leads her parents into a cave that looks nothing like the cave they’re in. Inside, the three of them find a slumbering dragon guarding a … dragon egg.

Emma barely dares to look at Mal who’s gone very still. “Is that—”

“That is me, yes,” Mal murmurs, her face unreadable. “A sleeping fool.”

“Calling a dragon a fool when Emma’s parents are right there is a bold choice,” Zelena quips from the side.

Emma doesn’t even bother to try and hit her with her elbow in her side. “What are they doing?” she asks, right when the Blue Fairy’s wand starts to glow in a blue hue that envelopes both Snow and the dragon egg. Its intensity grows and turns into a white flash of light for a second before the blue magical hue disappears altogether.

“What did that moth do?” Zelena asks with the same confusion that Emma feels.

Mal takes her time to reply. Her parents are already out of the cave when she finds her voice again. “They doomed my child to grow up without light inside of her, and instead forced her to live with the darkness of two magical beings trapped inside of one.”

Zelena gasps, probably involuntarily. “They switched—!”

“Yes, they did,” Mal confirms Zelena’s breathless realization. Her voice sounds oddly empty and, well, it happened to her kid or whatever, so. It makes sense.

Emma just keeps staring dumbly at her parents, the relief on their faces about what they’ve accomplished clearly visible on their faces. The fairy bows and disappears and then the pond grows dark and cold again.

Emma doesn’t even realize she has tears in her eyes and is more focused on her hands clenched into fists, knuckles white. Only when the first teardrop falls from her cheek she sniffs and rubs the tears out of her eyes, not sure if she’s angry at herself for crying or for something else. Like believing that her parents loved her for who she is.

Every damn time they were proud of her. Every time they said they loved her. It was directed at the mess they created by committing this crime. Emma knows instinctively that what Mal has just shown her has happened and she resents that fact with every fiber of her being.

Fuck that shit.

“Emma?” Zelena asks with what seems to be genuine worry. “We still don’t know if that really happened, she could be showing us anything. Maybe this is a trick to get you to do something really stupid just so that she can get out of here.”

“Shut up,” Emma tells her in a low voice. “And you!” she starts, glaring at Mal who doesn’t flinch despite the harsh tone. “Why did you show me this? What the hell is that supposed to change? Do you want me to get us out of here by awakening my deep hatred for someone?”

“So that you could understand why you have to do what it takes to save us and that stupid little town Regina created. You might not see it now, but magic always finds a way. If your parents hadn’t done this, something else would’ve eventually shaped you into who you are now.”

“An emotionally crippled savior who wasn’t enough for her parents even as an unborn kid?” Emma angrily asks and keeps glaring at Mal. “How is me being the way I am right now important to any of the bullshit that has happened to me ever since Henry and I fell through that portal?”

Mal gives her a long unimpressed look. “You are the Savior in more ways than one. Things can’t be undone and I am sure that dreadful fairy had her own skeevy reasons to help your parents, maybe even encourage them. I wasn’t there for all of it, Emma, but what I know is this: magic is about balance. The reason you have trouble really connecting to your powers is not because you lack talent or magic, quite the opposite; what you are missing is a part of yourself. The counter balance to keep everything as one entity, one continuous flowing stream of energy,” Mal patiently explains. Her hand finds Emma’s shaking shoulder. “There is a foreign part in you, and something that is missing. The light inside you belongs to you, but not all of it,” Mal continues. “Some of it belongs to my daughter.” Her voice is almost just a whisper at the end.

“Okay, I think I know where this is going and I’m out,” Zelena suddenly announces and slowly backs away. “I’d like to keep my soul or whatever we’re actually talking about, intact.”

“You silly woman, that’s not why you are here. No one wants your rotten-green dark magic.”

“Oh? Look who’s talking, the dragon lady on her mighty high horse,” Zelena huffs with an eye roll.

Mal sighs. “Emma’s powers can’t be counter balanced by some normal kind of dark magic. Your pitiful powers are quite safe with you,” Mal says and looks back to Emma. “What you need is something more powerful than that. Something older, more unique than that. Something powerful enough to transcend this realm and yours.”

“And why?” Emma asks slowly. “So what if my magic isn’t completely in balance? Why does it matter so much now, when no one has ever mentioned it before? Not even Rumple, who usually knows everything.” Or Regina, her teacher when the time allowed it. She would’ve told her something like that, right?

She wonders if her feelings for Regina and meeting her in the past has changed her assessment of their…friendship.

Her chest hurts when she thinks longer about her. She forces herself to pay attention to Mal again.  

Mal gives her a thin-lipped smile. “Oh, trust me, the imp knows about this and he will have his own reasons why he kept it to himself. Mainly because he wanted to benefit from the curse just as much as Regina, albeit in a different way.”

Emma, who had time to calm down during Mal’s explanations takes a deep breath. She knows what Mal means, where all these long-winded facts are leading her. Why that sword was shown to her, why Mal has shown her the past of her parents’ accidental or deliberate crime.

“The sword,” Emma sniffs, rubbing over her now probably red eyes one last time. “I have to get the sword out of there, right?”

“And become the new Dark One, yes,” Mal nods. “If it’s of any comfort to you, you can yell at Rumpelstiltskin for that one. Later.”

“It’s better if you punch him,” Zelena decides, giving Emma a short worried look. “Bloody hell, Emma.”

Yeah, bloody fucking hell. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it's possible that this 3-chapter-long part might turn into a 4-chapter-long part. still not sure about that. 
> 
> glad to see that some of the old readers are still following this series! made me really happy. sorry if i didn't manage to reply to all of your comments, i'm getting there. 
> 
> another thing: pls remember that i don't care about canon so nothing will resemble the mess that the show tried to sell to us as "The Dark One: Emma Swan Edition". hope y'all ready for that!!
> 
> have fun with chapter 2!

Henry and his mom don’t go to sleep right away. After Rumple left them with a now nameless dagger and a dooming outlook on the town’s future, they decided to go to the kitchen and make themselves some cocoa to drink. Well, his mom is making it while he is turning the dagger around in his hands.

“Where will you hide it?” he asks and looks up to find his mom’s gaze. “In your vault?”

“Maybe,” she says and adds some whipped cream on top of Henry’s cocoa. Not a lot, it’s still in the middle of the night. “I’ll have to think of something. But for now, it will stay with me,” she decides and places Henry’s mug in front of him. “Can I have it back?”

“Sure,” Henry says and hands the dagger over. Then he grabs his mug and shuffles ahead to the living room. His mom is right behind him and takes a seat next to him on the couch. Unlike his mom’s study there is no fire place, but his mom lights some candles that are on the table, using only her magic. He remembers a time where he would’ve protested or even outright pretended to hate her for it—but after everything that has happened he can’t even really bring himself to consider it.

“I can’t believe that Emma isn’t really dead,” Henry says and even saying it out loud feels odd. They held a funeral for Emma. It was awful and he hated every second of it. Seeing Emma’s name on the tombstone was one of the worst things he had to see.

And he saw a lot in his young life already.

His mom takes his hand that isn’t holding his mug. The daggers rests on her lap, glinting in the warm candle light. “Me neither,” she admits in a half-whisper and squeezes his hand. Her dark eyes are staring at the dagger. “But I have a bad feeling about how she … might have to come back.”

“What do you mean?”

His mom takes a deep breath and finally looks at him instead of the dagger. “Henry, there is a reason why the name on the dagger disappeared. Why Rumple so willingly gave up his powers, because I don’t doubt for once second that that’s what happened,” she starts to explain, her voice hardening when she speaks about Rumple. It’s hard to think about him as Gold, despite his more civilized behavior and attire.

Henry’s fluttering hope of Emma’s return crumbles just as fast as it came. “You think she has to …?” He can’t even say it out loud.

“I think, Rumpelstiltskin is a very cunning and selfish man, who probably weaved in a failsafe into the Dark Curse itself. If what he says about the Blue Fairy is right, then he must have known for a long, long time. Maybe ever since he lost his son,” his mom says in a thoughtful voice.

“What makes you think that?”

“She was involved in Bae’s disappearance, as far as I know. If she is who Rumple claims her to be, then he had a long time to plan his revenge. And what better way than to manipulate someone into thinking they have the power when instead the Savior will have it?”

Henry isn’t that sure his mom is only talking about the Blue Fairy now, but he takes a sip of his cocoa instead of saying that out loud. He licks the whipped cream off his upper lip and sighs. “We need a plan, mom,” he announces, nodding at the dagger. “Keeping it safe is one thing, but we need an actual plan on how to buy Emma time for whatever she’s doing. Wherever she is. Man, that’s so weird! And cool! I wonder what Emma is doing right now.”

“Hopefully nothing too stupid,” his mom mutters darkly and takes a sip from her cocoa.

*

 

Emma throws a bigger stone at the sword but it doesn’t move, not even an inch. She hits the hilt with full force and it doesn’t shake one bit.

“Don’t give up, maybe you should try to throw yourself against it,” Zelena suggests from the sidelines, a bored look on her face. Mal has left them a while ago to try and find Hades. She failed to tell Emma how exactly she’s supposed to get that stupid sword out of there and Zelena is useless, as per usual.

Emma sighs. “You could help me, you know? Since you, too, want to get back into the world of the living and all,” Emma tells her a little out of breath. Next thing she’s gonna throw is not just a big, heavy stone, but an actual boulder. Something has to get this sword out of there, right?

It can’t break, right?

“Watching you try and fail is much more entertaining and less exhausting.” Zelena has the audacity to fake-yawn. “Besides, I don’t have to become the next Dark One to play hero. I can remain my fabulous self without lifting a finger.”

“Right now you’re just being a dick!”

“Yell at me all you want, Emma. It’s not my fault your parents are awful too. At least they didn’t abandon you in a basket in Oz,” Zelena says darkly, looking at her nails.

Emma turns around to fully face her. “My parents probably just…” _Yeah, what did they want, Emma? Just the best for you? Or make sure you would be the perfect princess that would never be tempted to go rogue and fall for darkness?_ Emma shakes her head. She sighs and looks at that sword again. That fucker needs to get out of there.

She feels useless, too. With heavy steps she walks over to where Zelena is sitting and plops down next to her. “Your mother was not a nice person,” Emma starts, not really sure why. She avoids looking at Zelena who slowly turns her head to probably glare at her. “Most of my foster parents weren’t nice either,” she continues and licks her lower lip. “The point is they are not your family, you get to choose a new one, if you want.”

“Is this the part where we promise each other eternal friendship and hug each other?” Zelena asks with disdain in her voice.

Emma chuckles. “No, this is the part where I tell you that you have a better family in Storybrooke waiting than the one you think you missed out on. You saw Regina in the past, right? Pretty sure, Cora had her hands in a lot of the things that happened to Regina after her…boyfriend died.”

“But she didn’t grow up alone,” Zelena counters with a low voice. “You don’t have to force a bond between us, Emma. Once we get back home, I won’t try to kill your baby brother or Regina or anyone else that is important to you.” She winks at her with a mischievous smirk. “I might try to get rid of that annoying pirate or tree hugger, though. One word, and they’re gone.”

Tree hugger? Oh. “I just saved his wife,” Emma says and rolls her eyes. “But thanks, I guess.” She thinks for a moment. “Any ideas how to get that thing out?” The sword is still right where it was, glistening darkly in the light of the torches, as if mocking them.

“Maybe ask it politely to do your bidding,” Zelena suggests and shrugs.

Emma rubs her forehead and notes that she didn’t break a sweat while trying to get this thing out of there. Well, at least being trapped in a limbo comes with perks like that.

She takes a deep breath and tries to focus on the sword, but now that she’s allowed herself to slow down a little her thoughts go back to what she’s learned about her parents. She still loves them and desperately wants to get back to them, to Henry, to—

“Still no luck?” Mal asks from the entrance, Hades right behind her.

He barely moves from his spot even when Mal steps towards Emma. “You seem to have troubles to accept your new path.”

Emma huffs. “It’s not exactly easy, you know. That sword doesn’t want to leave this place.”

“I am aware of that, Emma. It’s why not everybody can do this. She couldn’t even if she tried to help you,” Mal unnecessarily adds and motions with her hand at Zelena who promptly rolls her eyes. “But you can. And not to hurry you, but time is kind of limited for this task.”

“How soon do we have to be back?” Emma asks slowly.

“The sooner you get back, the better,” Hades says from the doorway and finally joins them. He makes almost no sound when he makes his way over to them with his dark robe hanging down on him. “The fairy you saw in that Pond of Memories is not really a fairy but a trickster. A fraud. She needs to be brought back to me, down to the Underworld where she belongs.” With each word, Hades’ calm voice gains a sharp edge and turned into an almost-hiss.

Emma stares at him. “The Blue Fairy?”

“Her real name is Reul Ghorm. And she’s been after this,” Hades points with his bony index finger at the sword, “and its powers for a long, long time. Now that the Dark One’s curse ceased to exist the way it used to, she is convinced that the powers will be accessible to her, but she is wrong. However, if you take too long, she will get creative and bring unspeakable things upon Storybrooke, Emma.”

Storybrooke.

Emma’s thoughts start to race. “And how do I stop her? Why is this the first time I’m hearing about this?”

“We didn’t want to jump this all on you, but now we kind of have to hurry up,” Mal notes from her spot.

Hades nods. “Well, first you accept your destiny and then you make use of the weakened borders around that magical town,” he tells her and his voice sounds normal again, almost soft. “All you have to do is grip that sword and believe in yourself. Stop doubting yourself. You are the Savior, no matter what.” He tilts his head. “Rumpelstiltskin knew that the day would come where he would have to give up his powers to get his revenge on the Blue Fairy. You see, he is a very, very unforgiving person and he was planning on ruining Reul Ghorm ever since she gave his son that magical bean. Thus, a loophole was created.”

“He talks of time pressure and now we get a bedtime story about Rumple,” Zelena mutters darkly next to her, but no one pays her any mind.

Not even Emma. “Loophole?”

“The Dark Curse was originally created by Reul Ghorm and through various deals and owed favors it ended up in Regina’s all too capable hands. Rumplestiltskin has altered a great many things, all he could, but some things were embedded in the foundation of the Curse. So some unfortunate elements couldn’t be altered, such as this: in case the Dark Curse is broken and the Savior dies, the powers of the Dark One are transferred to her, the one originally responsible for allowing the Curse to happen by writing it.

“But, things shifted when you started your time travel, Emma. Because then it wasn’t any longer the fairy who was responsible for the Curse to ravage the Enchanted Forest, but you. She made a fatal mistake. She underestimated Rumpelstiltskin. You see, the moment he knew your name, Emma—do you remember, on your last chapter of the time travel, when that imp was scribbling your name down? It wasn’t just turning you into _a_ Savior, it turned you into the Savior to break _any curse_ , creating a loophole that went around the original intention of the Curse.” Hades nods a few times and sighs. “Rumpelstiltskin stole Reul Ghorm’s right to these powers right in front of her nose and I am sure she hasn’t noticed her mistake to this day. He is an artist in his own right.”

Emma is speechless. “He…wrote me into the curse to counter this Reul Ghorm’s original intent of the Dark Curse?”

“Exactly, now you get it.”

“And no one told me before I had to jump through that portal?”

Hades shrugs with his narrow shoulders. “What good would it have done to you to know this? Would it evne have made sense to you without having lived through the time travel, gathering all the information you have right this moment to understand your fate? I highly doubt it.”

Emma thinks for a moment, digesting his words. “And what about that fairy? What am I supposed to do with her?”

“She’s actually a demon and you can’t kill her, so don’t even try. Despite your new powers you won’t be able to kill her. All you can do is bring her back to the Underworld. I’ll take care of her after that.” Hades sounds like he’d be sporting a shit-eating grin if he had a normal face and not just a skull. “And I hereby vow to seal away the Dark One’s Curse for good once you are done, allowing you to have a long and happy life. You will not be burdened by it longer than you must. It has done enough to you and your family.”

Emma feels oddly relieved. The prospect of being the Dark One (while still having Rumple’s rotten teeth and maniac giggles fresh in her mind) isn’t something she wants to even imagine. However, she isn’t sure how much the word of this skeleton is worth. “What if you break your word?”

Hades tilts his head. “It’s a magical vow, Emma. I can’t break it even if I wanted to.” He comes closer to her, leaning towards her until their faces are only inches away. “Don’t fall for the temptation of the power this blade will give you. You have to willingly return the power to me,” he warns her in a quiet voie.

Emma swallows hard and nods, uncomfortable with how cold she feels with Hades so close to her.

She doubts she will even like using the magic of the Dark One. It’s a means to an end, that’s it. It’s not like she _wants_ to become the Dark One, she kind of needs to.

It’s a pattern, lately, not having a real choice. She could use a break from all of this. Once she is done she’s going on a vacation. Just her, her yellow bug, and Henry. Maybe Regina, if she even wants to go with them.

Oh, man.

Suddenly going back to Storybrooke seems oddly nervewrecking for a completely evil-fairy-unrelated reason.

When Emma moves towards the sword, Zelena is watching her. “How do we know that the powers of the Dark One are just floating around? What if someone else already made use of them?” Zelena asks and looks over to Hades.

“I’d know that. These powers are as old as the Underworld itself. They’re a part of this realm and I know everything that is going on down here—or in any other realm, for that matter. Trust me, the powers aren’t currently bound to anyone. But that is a dangerous situation to have and Emma needs to put an end to this.”

“Is Regina good again?” Mal asks, pretending to be thinking out loud.

“I doubt that Regina even knows about the Dark One losing his powers,” Zelena says. “It’s not like Rumple would go to her to tell her about that. He is probably still pretending to have his powers.”

Emma hums in agreement. “If he is still alive. He did kill you and Regina has to know about this by now, right?”

“Would she care?” Zelena asks with surprise in her voice.

Emma gives her a long look. “And you call me stupid?”

Hades clears his throat.

Emma turns around to face him again. “Alright, we’ll stop. But I have one last question for you: why being so cryptic about all this?”

Hades laughs. “Remember how I told you that time bends and slows down, but never stops? Time passes differently down here, but it passes. The longer you wait, the more you risk. And you don’t want that, now do you?” He nods again when she doesn’t counter that argument with anything. “As to why I was being so cryptic: I had hoped that you figuring things out on your own would help you to come to terms with it, a smooth transition into a new reality if you will. Just simply dumping everything on you seemed unnecessarily cruel, dear Emma.”

Emma has to admit to herself that he has a point. “Fine, so I’ll just get the sword and save the town, got it,” Emma recounts the latest instructions. “Piece of cake, right?”

Zelena groans.

 

*

 

Henry knows that something is different when he jerks awake the next morning. Not only is his neck stiff from sleeping in a weird position on the couch of the living room, but the light streaming in through the windows is too bright, too … white. He blinks the sleepiness away and sits up, careful not to wake his mom who is still asleep under the blanket they shared. She must have thrown it over them before she fell asleep herself.

He smiles at her fondly before looking towards the windows.

It’s snowing, he realizes when he creeps closer to the window closest to him. The ground is covered in a few inches snow, glistening in the grey morning light. With everything going on, he almost forgot that they’re just three weeks away from Christmas. Their garden looks like it’s part of Narnia, and for a ridiculous moment Henry thinks about how this wouldn’t be even the craziest thing that could happen to them.

He wonders if Emma is alright and he feels bad that her parents can’t know about the fact that Emma isn’t dead, just stuck in some kind of limbo before she returns to them.

Henry sighs.

“Henry?” the groggy voice of his mom suddenly calls behind him. He walks over to her and greets her with a small smile which can’t quite hide his worry. Not from his mom, anyway. “What’s wrong?”

“Winter is here,” Henry says and he doesn’t mean to make it sound like a dramatic _Game of Thrones_ reference, but, well. Here they are. “I mean, there’s snow everywhere outside and there is still more falling down.”

His mom throws the blanket to the side and gets up, stretching a little before she looks out of the window.

“That isn’t just a simple weather change,” his mom says and rubs her eyes, before hiding a yawn behind the back of her hand. “This is what Rumple warned us about,” she realizes and Henry knows she’s right. “That dreadful fairy has already begun to charger her powers, it has to be her doing.”

“What do we do?” he asks while rubbing his cold hands together.

His mom walks over to the couch and takes the dagger into her hand, then she glances over to him. “We need to hide this as soon as possible. Let’s get dressed, we’ll have breakfast on our way over to the vault. It’s the safest place I can think of right now. There are many protective spells in place already, it should keep the dagger safe, hopefully long enough for Emma to find her way back to Storybrooke.”

“Shouldn’t we hold onto the dagger and wait for her name to appear on it so we can call her?”

His mom frowns at the blade in her hand. “I couldn’t—we shouldn’t abuse this dagger like that. We have no idea how Emma will be affected by the Dark One’s curse, I just—our priority is to protect it. And we will do so, down in the vault.”

“Oh, so we stay there? Alright, I should pack some things,” Henry agrees with a nod and dashes off to his room to get dressed and throw some essentials into a duffel bag.

Fifteen minutes later they’re inside his mom’s Mercedes, the windshield free of any ice thanks to his mom’s magic. The humming of the heater in the car is the loudest sound and they both don’t say much while they nibble at their plain croissants. His mom sips from her coffee in her to-go-mug and mainly focuses on the road that is only slightly covered in snow. Someone had to free the streets with a snowplow, because there are piles of snow on the side of the roads.

“David must’ve gotten up early and taken care of it. Or one of the dwarves,” his mom mumbles and slowly continues to drive through the sleeping town. It’s barely 8 am on a Sunday.

“Why do you think this is the fairy’s doing?” Henry asks and licks his lips.

His mom gives him a short look. “Something about this weather doesn’t feel natural.” The car slithers a little when she says that, making her grip the wheel even tighter with both hands.

Thankfully, they are almost there.

They drive past someone who is trying to get rid of the snow in front of their porch, but he doesn’t seem to notice them—or be very successful with his attempts to free his pathway to the house entrance.

Henry gets lost in thought again while staring out of his window.

If Rumple is right and Reul Ghorm is behind this then—

“Shouldn’t we warn people?” Henry suddenly asks to break the silence. “I mean, not the part about Emma having to come back as…not really herself, but about the Blue Fairy being a danger to us all.”

His mom, creeping closer to the parking lot nearby the park where the vaul is, sighs. “You heard what Rumple said,” she reminds him. “Not that I always see eye to eye with him, but…there is no need to cause a wave of panic in this town. Especially if your grandparents are involved. They would keep asking more and more questions, and eventually our enemy might find out what is really going on and cost us our advantage over Reul Ghorm.” Her voice takes on a weird tone when she mentions his grandparents. They haven’t seen them since Emma’s funeral and it’s only the knowledge that Emma isn’t actually dead that Henry can think back to this sad event. He hated every second of it and his chest aches when he tries to imagine what Snow and David must go through—it’s unfair that they have to keep it all a secret.

“It just feels wrong to not tell them about Emma. What if Reul Ghorm is going to harm someone while she is away?”

His mom grows very silent and slips the car in one of the many empty spots on the parking lot. She turns the engine off before facing him again. “Henry, I don’t know if Rumple is one hundred percent right about _Emma_ coming back. I mean, I am sure he has a point that things were set into motion and he will have his reasons for still being so awfully cryptic about everything, but I don’t know how much we can trust his word regarding Emma’s return.”

Henry can feel his eyes widen. “You think he lied? Why would he do that?”

“No, I don’t think he lied to us. I am just concerned in what condition Emma might come back, how much of a toll this curse could take on her,” his mom explains and takes her seatbelt off.

And then Henry really gets it. “Oh. _Oh_.” He shivers. “She might be…oh.”

His mom gives him a solemn look. “Yes, I know.”

They share another look and then leave the car. His mom locks it and waits for him to round the vehicle before putting her arm around his shoulder. “It’s going to be alright. We’ll figure something out, don’t worry,” she says with a smile and he nods, hoping with all his heart that she is right.

His mom suddenly stops walking and when Henry looks up from his boots he knows why. Hook, still wearing his black leather coat that reeks faintly of rum (or maybe it’s Hook himself, Henry thinks), stands in front of them, blocking their path to the vault that isn’t far away. His boot steps in the snow are coming from a tree nearby. His hiding spot where he has watched them god knows how long.

“Your Majesty,” Hook drawls and then looks at Henry. “And her little brat, how lovely.” If he isn’t drunk, then he sounds at least awfully hungover.

Henry wrinkles his nose at the smell and his choice of words. Bah. “I’m not a ‘brat’,” he points out, furrowing his brows.

“Hook, what the hell do you want?” his mom growls, glaring at him. Her tone suggests that she is already out of patience.

Hook smiles at them, his silver hook glinting in the morning light. “You have something that I need to get back what is mine,” he rasps out, his other hand fumbling with something inside his coat pocket. “Something I know you are in possession of, despite not having any rights to it. Hand it over.”

“What are you talking about?”

Hook’s smile widens. “Don’t play coy, your Majesty. I know you have the dagger. Give it to me.”

“No.”

Hook’s smile vanishes. “I won’t ask again.”

Before his mom can throw a fireball at him or even curse his name, he throws some powdery substance in their faces. Henry coughs and sneezes and starts to feel light headed.

His mom groans. “You useless little—” she hisses and drops to her knees.

Henry falls on his side right next to her, barely able to keep his eyes open.

Hook’s wolfish smile when he leans over his mom to take the dagger from her is one of the last things he sees. “You won’t need that anymore, your Majesty,” he announces.

Then everything goes black.

 

*

 

The sword is heavier then it looked and yet it seems to fit Emma’s hand perfectly. She stares at the black-silver jagged blade and watches how her name starts to appear on it. Wonderful. Whoever is now in possession of the dagger in Storybrooke can control her. Logically, it should be Rumple, right? He was the last Dark One, so—damn, she can’t believe she’s pinning her hopes on that imp to do the right thing here. She’s gonna deck him if he calls her with this dagger.

A shiver runs down her spine. She really hates being at the mercy of others.

“Not completely, no,” Hades says and oops, she’s shared that thought out loud. “The dagger is some sort of anchor for you to use. It is the connection you need to get back to your plane of existence, and I mean all three of you. Once you are back in Storybrooke the dagger ceases to have any control over you, seeing as you own the original blade of the Dark One.”

“All three of us?” Zelena asks and gives Mal the stinky eye. “No one of us is really dead?”

“Magic is wonderful, isn’t it?” Hades sounds outright gleeful. And proud. “Besides, you and Emma are already connected.”

Judging by Zelena’s dark look in her eyes she is not sharing his enthusiasm.

“Because of the time travel?” Emma asks and wonders when exactly she will start to feel the difference, now that she is the new Dark One.

“You don’t mean we are soulmates, do you?” Zelena asks slowly with an ironic edge to her words.

Hades leaves them, laughing on his way out.

Zelena gives Emma something akin to a panicked look. “He is just messing with us, right?”

Emma can only shrug. She has no clue what that soulmate-mumbo-jumbo is about. She knows that Regina has that going for her with this Robin dude (or had, who knows what Marian’s return might have changed), but she has no idea what the exact rules are for that. “Relax, soulmate apparently doesn’t mean it has to be a romantic connection,” she opts to say, before looking at the sword again.

Zelena takes a deep breath. “Of course not,” she agrees with a long sigh and shakes her head. “Let’s figure out how to get out of here.” She then gives Emma an expectant look, similar to the one Mal is giving her.

Emma’s throat goes dry. “Um,” she makes, not feeling on top of things. “I don’t know what to do?”

“You should ideally feel a connection to the dagger, now,” Mal tells her with a patient smile. “Try to focus on the sword and your new magic.”

“But I don’t feel any different.”

Zelena throws her hands up. “She can’t even do evil sorceress right,” she grumbles, mostly directed at Mal as if she didn’t hate her with no reason.

Emma glares at her. “Sorry, for not having so much experience in that category like you two do.”

“Hey, leave me out of this. I am just a dragon,” Mal says and takes a defensive stance with crossed arms and a high held chin. “Besides, you should be more powerful than us two combined. It’s hard to find a match for powers like this, especially if it is wielded by the Savior.”

Emma closes her eyes and tries to remember Regina’s words about how to find and connect with her magic. It still feels slow and clumsy when she finally gets a grip on her powers. “Definitely still feeling like myself,” she announces, eyes still closed. “But…there is something new.” Her hand that is holding the swords feels warm and that warmth spreads through her arm into her entire body. She senses a heavy darkness settle inside her chest, along with a restlessness that isn’t entirely unfamiliar to her. Her magic changes, it feels even more heavy in a way, but at the same time it is easier to access. And it’s _everywhere_. Her entire body is brimming with dark energy and she has to force herself to open her eyes before she gets lost in it.

“Holy shit,” she gasps.

“If it’s any comfort to you, you still look like your idiot self, dressed in that guard’s uniform,” Zelena informs her with a dry tone.

“Thanks,” Emma says and lowers the sword. She takes a few deep breaths and tests her powers by lifting and smashing that bolder against the cave wall. It all happens fluently and with an ease, as if Emma has been using magic her whole life. “Whoa.”

Zelena blinks at her, Mal shifts a little. “Now you do seem a little more terrifying, though,” Zelena admits.

Emma rolls her eyes. “Great, not what I’m after though. How the fuck am I supposed to get us—”

A sudden pain rips through her body and soul, burning inside her skull like a hot blade being rammed repeatedly into her head. She grits her teeth and lets the sword fall to the ground, holding her head with both her hands.

Someone is calling Emma’s name, inside her head and it’s pulling her apart. The sensation of burning alive the longer she refuses to follow that call is getting worse with every second she refuses to follow that call.

She needs to stop that right now.

She has to follow the call. Before she can even make that decision, black smoke engulfs her and her two companions who stopped bickering. It all happens so fast but suddenly they are somewhere else.

Emma feels as if someone ripped every bone out of her body and then put it back inside. Zelena and Mal give her a stunned, and also worried look.

Something clatters in front of her.

Her sword.

She is about to reach for it, the pain already subsiding, when—

“Swan?”

Oh, for fuck’s sake.

Emma, who is still donning that Evil Queen guard outfit and is now holding the sword of the Dark One in her gloved hand swirls around to meet Hook’s disbelieving eyes. A small smile creeps on his lips when he realizes it’s really her and he looks genuinely happy to see her. “You are truly not dead!” He moves towards her as if to hug her.

And he’s holding the dagger in his hand.

Of course he is.

Time seems to slow down, and before he can say another word or get closer to her, she moves with one swift movement towards him and lands a hard punch against his temple. It gives her a sick sense of satisfaction to watch him drop to the ground. He is unconscious and the dagger falls from his limp hand.

She bows down to pick it up and stares at her name. It makes her furious not to know how he got that dagger. Is Rumple really that _stupid_ without his powers? Her lips curl into a snarl when she turns around to face the two other woman who stare at her in something akin to respect.

“You do have one mean hook, Emma,” Zelena says with a straight face and Mal groans at the ceiling, while Emma stops herself from face palming right there and then.

“That was awful,” Mal informs her.

Emma agrees with a nod. “We don’t have time for this. There is a demon out there, already gathering her powers.” The sticky, dark magic has seeped into the foundation of this town, she can feel it. It makes her nauseous.

Then she has a proper look around for the first time since landing here and notices that the place looks familiar. She’s been here before.

Regina’s vault. Or, the entrance of it.

“How did that weasel get in here,” she wonders out loud, stepping over Hook’s unconscious body without paying him a second glance. Then she looks down at her hands that are busy holding both blades now, and she closes her eyes to solve that problem. The connection to her magic—or the Dark One’s magic—seems a lot stronger than before her sudden departure from Storybrooke.

It also feels less like the magic she’s used to.

One moment she imagines herself wearing her favorite boots, black pair of skinny jeans, her black leather jacket over her black sweater and a scabbard for each weapon she carries right now, and boom. When she opens her eyes she’s no longer dressed like one of the Evil Queen’s guards from a different time, she’s wearing exactly the things she’s imagined.

“Impressive,” Zelena says from behind her. “And thus the ugly duckling turned into a beautiful, terrifying swan.”

Emma narrows her eyes at her. “Stop being so creepily nice to me.”

Zelena shrugs. “What do I know how the Dark One’s magic changed your demeanor. I’m way too young to be killed by some very angry savior who is just now discovering the might of her new powers. Which are very impressive.”

Emma exhales a deep breath and massages the bridge of her nose. “I’m still myself, alright?” she defends herself, already doubting her own words when they leave her mouth. She does feel like herself, but at the same time…she is more. Something else. _Different_.

“Now what?” Mal asks, looking back and forth between Emma and Zelena. “Shall we flip a coin on what to do next?”

“I’d say we bury his body in the sea. I’m sure he’d appreciate that,” Zelena suggests and points with a careless motion to Hook’s unmoving body on the ground.

Emma’s weapons clatter when she changes her stance. “He isn’t dead, Zelena.”

“So? The ocean is going to take care of that.”

“He could be useful. We should interrogate him.” Emma looks down at Hook’s pale face.

“On it,” Mal agrees with a nod and just as she’s done saying this, ropes appear out of thin air, sneaking around Hook’s body, making any movement or attempt to flee impossible; Hook won’t be able to move neither his arms nor his legs.

Zelena makes an impatient noise in the back of her throat. “And after we interrogate him?”

“Let’s see what he has to tell us, then we’ll think of our next step,” Emma gives back, silencing Zelena’s next attempt to persuade her with one simple glare.

Zelena closes her mouth again and sighs.

Emma grabs Hook’s left foot and uses her magic to enhance her strength, dragging his motionless body behind her with no effort whatsoever. Oh, she could really get used to this.

And the moment she thinks this, she flinches.

No.

She will not get tempted.

Emma takes a deep breath and keeps walking, using her magic to push the heavy entrance door open. She hears steps descending stairs and rustling of a drawer. Emma turns around to find only Mal behind her. “Where did she go?” Zelena is nowhere to be seen.

“She didn’t say anything, she just up and left.”

“I’m getting back what’s mine, stop panicking,” Zelena yells from downstairs, before returning to them. Her green pendant is visibly hanging around her neck, glowing in the half-lit entrance of Regina’s vault. She also changed her clothes: she’s now wearing dark pants, knee-high boots and a black coat. “Now we can leave.”

Mal gives her one look over before she briefly disappears in a cloud of magic. When she is visible again she’s wearing a similar outfit as Zelena, only that she decided to go for tight leather pants and a longer coat than Zelena is wearing.

Emma gives them a longsuffering look. “Are you two done with the make overs? Can we get back to our mission?”

“Oh, so you can dress up as some cool rowdy anti-hero, but you want us to walk around like fools in the same clothes we died in?” Zelena snarls back, pointing up and down with her hand at Emma’s outfit.

“I did not die in that outfit,” Mal mumbles.

“ _Whatever_ ,” Emma hisses and takes another deep breath. Then she continues her walk out of the vault, still dragging Hook after her.

Her first step out of the vault is crunchy.

Oh.

Looks like winter arrived in Storybrooke.

“That’s a lot of snow,” Zelena notes with disdain in her voice while looking at the grey sky. Snowflakes are dancing around them. “Terrible.”

“Definitely not my weather,” Mal agrees and magics herself a warm, black shawl around her neck.

Emma thinks opening her loose bun so she can get a beanie with the snap of her fingers, but gets distracted by something in the distance, lying motionless in the snow.

She drops Hook’s boot the moment she recognizes what, no, _who_ they are.

“What the—” Zelena gets out before Emma vanishes and reappears a split second next to the two bodies.

She’s on her knees before she realizes that she just teleported herself without even thinking about it. “Regina? Hey, Regina, wake up. Shit. Henry!” She shakes both of them, but nothing happens, their eyes remain closed. And what’s worse, she has no idea how long they’ve been lying out here in the cold snow. Their hair is covered in some snowflakes, but their body temperature hasn’t dropped significantly so far. It can’t be more than a few minutes, Emma concludes.

Still, her anger rises.

She knows without a doubt that Hook is responsible for this, though.

Suddenly Zelena’s suggestions are way more tempting than before.

She growls, then she has a quick look around and spots Regina’s Mercedes parked nearby. Good, a way to get them quickly somewhere warm without teleporting them. Emma has no idea how serious their condition is and using magic as efficiently as she’s able to now is still new to her. She’d rather not risk anything, not if she could harm someone by accident because she’s trying out new tricks she wasn’t able to do before becoming the Dark One.  

“What’s wrong with walking, Emma?” Zelena asks from behind her, slightly out of breath. She’s dragged Hook behind her and apparently did not use magic to make that task easier. Nor did Mal offer to help her, it seems.

Well.

“We need to get them somewhere warm. There’s Regina’s car,” Emma explains, already lifting Henry into her arms. “Put Hook into the trunk,” she tells Zelena then uses her magic to lift Regina up and float her in front of her, while searing her pockets for the car keys. Once she’s found them she uses them to unlock the car.

This time, Mal does assist Zelena by opening the trunk and helping her to heave Hook into it.

Meanwhile, Emma is done getting an unconscious Henry and Regina into the car. Henry is sitting on the passenger seat in the front, Regina is lying on the backseat.

Zelena and Mal give her a long look. “There was no way to get us all into that car?”

“Nope. We’ll meet at Regina’s mansion. You still know where that is, right?” Emma asks and looks at Zelena, who replies by rolling her eyes.

Emma gets into the car and starts the engine, and watches in the side mirror how both Zelena and Mal disappear.

It starts to snow harder once Emma is on the road.

 

*

 

Hook can barely move when he starts to gain consciousness again. It takes him a second to realize that he was unconscious in the first place, and then he remembers. How he used the dagger, how it worked, and then—

“Swan?” He blinks in confusion, looking down on himself. He’s entire body is tied and he’s sitting on a wooden, heavy chair. He can’t move an inch and he suspects that magic is at play here. “Swan!” He has no idea what room this is, it’s not a place he’s been to before, he thinks.

“Shut up, pirate,” Regina’s half-sister snarls, a green flame igniting on her open palm. “Our dear Emma is busy getting that nasty fairy dust out of Henry and Regina’s system. You wouldn’t happen to know anything about it, would you?”

Hook just now realizes that someone took his hook away from him. “Aye, I’m just here for Swan. If you could go get her and let me talk to her, I’ll gladly explain everything—or I’ll just tell you!” he changes his mind mid-sentence, leaning his face away from the green flame as far as he can. Which is not very far, considering his situation. “Alright, you made your point, get that away from me!” he yells when Zelena makes no motion to stop threatening his face with the green flame.

Zelena chuckles darkly. “You are really pathetic, Hook.”

“You’re one to talk,” he grumbles, relaxing a little when the fire disappears from Zelena’s open palm. “Weren’t you trying to kill Regina just a few days ago? The way I see it you should be grateful, then. Did you a favor, eh?”

Zelena’s eyes cloud over a little and then she shrugs. “That was then. Now I have different plans. And even if I still was after my sister’s death—which I am not—I wouldn’t thank you for a job sloppy done, you imbecile.”

“You teamed up with my Swan then,” he guesses and ignores her biting tone and insults. Next, he’s trying to assess how much wiggle room they’ve left him. The answer is: none. He hides his disappointment behind a winning smile. “Which means you are also on my side.”

Zelena stares at him as if he’s just announced to eat a raw chimera right in front of her. “Are you done being stupid?”

Hook frowns at her. “I’m just presenting you the facts.”

“Oh, you want facts? Well, how about this. Fact number one, if you don’t give me a name and the purpose of drugging members my family before Emma comes down here, I will tell her to kill you slowly and painfully. And I honestly don’t think she’ll need much incentive to do so. Fact number two, the reason why she won’t need it is because she is the Dark One _you absolutely dense fool_.”

Hook pretends not to be terrified. It is usually the sensitive thing to do in situations like these. “I know she’s the new Dark One. I used the dagger, remember?”

“Oh, I remember. And so does she,” Zelena smiles, and yes, this woman is not a nice enemy to have.

Hook swallows hard. “How about a deal then, aye? You get Swan down here and I’ll tell her all about the Blue Fairy and her meddling in all of this. Of course, you’ll have to make sure Swan won’t try to kill me for following orders I had no choice but to obey. I had no idea she’d be the Dark One when I got the dagger, but once I saw her name—I did what was best for her and called her back to the land of the living.” Hook hopes that Zelena recognizes how earnest he sounds. He means every word.

Zelena says nothing, she simply lights her open palm on fire again.

“Okay, okay, then just get her in here, I’ll take care of the rest!”

“You mean you will say the truth and nothing but the truth, no matter how angry Emma will be?” Zelena sweetly asks, coming another step closer to him, the flame in her hand growing in intensity. He can feel the heat on his skin and he doesn’t like it one bit.

He swallows hard and nods frantically. What else can he do?

Hook will later claim that he was tortured by the Wicked Witch and nearly died a heroic death before giving in.

 

*

 

“No serious harm was done,” Mal says when she’s done examining both Henry and Regina. She gets to her feet and pushes her hair out of her face. “They should wake up in a few minutes. The dosage of the dust wasn’t that high to begin with.”

“Good,” Emma says and sighs. “Thank you.”

“Consider this as my favor returned to you.”

“Didn’t I owe you one for kind of murdering you with a sword?” Emma asks and crosses her arms. She’s standing at Henry’s side of the bed, looking down at him from time to time.

Mal laughs softly. “We’re even then,” she simply agrees and rolls her shoulders a little. “I’ll be downstairs, making sure the Wicked Witch doesn’t do anything too stupid.”

Emma snorts. “If she hasn’t already.”

Mal returns her smile. “You know where to find me, if you need anything.”

Emma nods and is about to let Mal leave, but then she remembers something she didn’t have a chance to ask earlier. “Wait,” she calls and Mal, who just left the room and started to pull the door closed behind her, comes back.

She gives Emma a confused look. “Yes?”

“Your…child,” Emma starts slowly, not sure how to best ask this. “What happened to her?”

Something changes in Mal’s face, a wistful look enters her eyes. “I believe the very same fairy that executed your parent’s wish made sure that I would not be able to discover what exactly has happened. For the longest time I just simply assumed that Regina was behind the disappearance of my daughter,” she whispers and looks at Regina’s unmoving face. “But Hades made me see the truth, eventually.”

Emma wants to ask why Mal has suspected Regina to have an interest in kidnapping an unborn child inside a dragon egg, but she decides to give it a rest. “She might be in Storybrooke. Not knowing who her mother is.” That, at least, is a feeling Emma is very familiar with.

But Mal shakes her head. “No, I believe the fairy wanted to be very thorough and made sure that my daughter would grow up in a different realm after she was born. She was long gone to the Land with No Magic before the Dark Curse was cast. So she’s somewhere out there, who knows how far away from this little town.” Mal looks out of the window when she says this.

Emma nods, storing away the information.

Mal gives her a long look. “Why do you ask?”

Emma shrugs, glancing down at Henry again before meeting Mal’s questioning eyes. “I’m really good at finding people. Maybe after all this is over…?” She doesn’t finish and gives Mal a tentative smile.

Mal returns her smile and nods, then she leaves quietly the room.

Emma lets out a deep breath. She sits down on the floor, draws up her knees and rests her chin on them, her back resting against the bed frame. She feels incredibly tired all of the sudden, but she refuses to close her eyes. Instead, she’s impatiently drumming with her fingers on her shins while sitting on floor, briefly wondering if she should call Robin and tell him what happened to Regina.

Unless, Marian’s return changed things and they’re not…a thing anymore. If they ever really were, Emma is still not sure about that. And an ugly part of her wonders if that is just her wishful thinking talking. Of course that part hopes and longs for them not to be together anymore, praying that this Robin character is out of the picture through her own actions, no matter how selfish that makes her sound.

She quickly discards these thoughts.

Emma shakes her head, disgusted with that new, dark voice in her head. She knows what it is and so far she’s really good at just ignoring it. But it is not leaving her unaffected. Her hatred for Hook has reached new heights and she can’t believe she’s ever entertained the thought of him being a genuine friend. Whatever his motivation was to commit this fuckery, he clearly doesn’t understand what these people mean to her. Friend or not, he is on top of her shit list now. Well, second only to the fairy that tries to wreak havoc in this town.

She entertains the thought of following Zelena’s earlier suggestion of getting rid of him—permanently.

Emma stiffens at this thought, wondering if it’s really her own desire behind that thought or…if something else is influencing her. Her chest tightens at the possibility.

When there is movement on the bed she stops drumming and gets to her feet in one fluent movement, flexing her hands while monitoring closely their faces. Henry and Regina don’t seem to be in pain and Mal has promised her that using magic to get the toxic dust out of their bodies didn’t hurt them but Emma finds that she has trouble trusting people right now.

Maybe Hades should’ve warned her about the changes she would go through after getting a hold of that sword and the powers that come with it.

She sighs and Henry’s left hand jerks, before he knits his brows together. He hums and turns a little, then he starts to open his eyes.

Emma is so relieved, she almost forgets that Hook is downstairs, tied to a chair and being interrogated by Zelena. She almost mourns the fact that she isn’t the one who gets to do that, but this is more important.

“Emma?” Henry asks in a raspy voice and is up and sitting in a heartbeat. “Emma! You are back!” And then he throws himself at her and buries his face in the crook of her neck, his arms tightly around her.

Emma just now feels the tears running down her cheeks. “Yeah, I’m here, kid.”

She has no idea how long they stay like this, but after a while Henry leans back and gives her a lopsided smile, before he turns around to look at his mom. Regina is still not moving and it starts to worry her.

Henry looks at her again. “She got more of the dust into her face, she was closer to…Hook! He took your dagger! We have to stop him, we have to—!”

“I know, I know,” Emma calms him down and points to the dagger attached to her belt. “He’s downstairs, tied to a chair and probably being terrorized by Zelena. Don’t worry, we got this.”

Henry jumps up again. “Zelena? She’s back here too? Holy sh—” He stops himself and blinks. “I mean, holy smokes.”

Emma winks at him. “Good save, kid. You can go to her if you want, I’m gonna stay here until your mom wakes up.” A part of her doesn’t want to let Henry get anywhere near Hook, but she’s comforted by the fact that both, Zelena and Mal are downstairs, more than capable to handle one crusty, stinking pirate.

Henry considers her words for a moment and nods. “Okay!” he says and gives Regina one last look, touches her hand and only then dashes out of the room.

Emma takes a deep breath. She is alone with her thoughts again. She is relieved that her love for Henry hasn’t changed since becoming the Dark One. Then again, she is still getting used to her new powers and she doesn’t know if things will remain the way they are right now.

Before she can spiral down into an existential crisis: Dark One edition, Regina begins to stir.

And suddenly Emma realizes that she’s alone with the woman whose happy ending she might have ruined by bringing back the was-supposed-to-die-wife of Robin Hood. Her mouth is dry and her fingertips tingle with magic that comforts her with the possibility of teleporting herself away from this room, should things get ugly.

It takes Regina another two minutes to slowly wake up.

Emma is a tense mess, hoping for Henry to come back but also to stay away. She can almost feel the tension in the air around her and wonders if that is her magic, or if she’s just this nervous. It’s not even because of her now obvious crush on Regina—and wow, is she glad Zelena is downstairs and nowhere near this train wreck of a scene—it’s mostly because she isn’t sure what she’s coming back to.

What if Regina hates her?

Apparently she’s been in possession of the Dark One’s dagger but Emma has a feeling that this is Rumple’s doing, so she can’t trust that information to tell her anything about how much Regina does or doesn’t hate her.

She’ll find out soon enough.

She remains quiet and motionless at her spot where she’s been when Henry woke up a few minutes ago.

Regina doesn’t notice her right away, even sits up and seems to be listening for any noise. It must be confusing to wake up in your own house if you got mugged by a pirate in front of your vault, Emma thinks, clenching one hand into a fist when she remembers what Hook has done.

Right when she thinks that Regina might get up and leave the room without noticing her at all, Regina straightens her back and turns around while still being seated on the bed. Her eyes widen when she recognizes Emma.

Emma is so focused on searching Regina’s eyes for any sign of anger or disappointment that she almost misses the fact that Regina is suddenly on her feet and about to hug her. It still surprises her, even when she puts her hands around her out of reflex. The sword and on her back and the dagger at her belt feel heavy and out of place, making the hug a little awkward.

Regina doesn’t seem to mind. “You’re really back,” she whispers into her ear and Emma shivers.

“Yeah, I guess,” she mumbles back, restraining herself from breathing Regina’s hair in. “Henry is downstairs,” she adds with what she assumes to be Regina’s number one concern.

Regina steps back a little and gives her a watery smile. “Okay. When did you come back?”

“Not long ago. Hook…couldn’t wait to use the dagger,” Emma slowly says, feeling the irrational need to teleport herself downstairs and sucker punch Hook into a different realm, one where he won’t find a way back to Storybrooke.

Emma wonders if part of her hatred belongs to Rumple, who’s been the Dark One before her. Can you inherit the anger and hatred from someone if you suffer from the same curse?

Regina looks at her, really looks at her. “He used it to summon you,” she concludes and looks at her hands. “I’m sorry, I should’ve been more careful. Rumple has warned us that the dagger has to be protected. The Blue Fairy—Reul Ghorm must’ve convinced him to get the dagger for her,” Regina muses.

Emma tilts her head a little. “So you know about the Blue Fairy, huh?” she half-asks and sighs.

Regina seems lost in thought. “I know enough, I suppose. I’m not sure what exactly happened on your time travel, though. Only some snippets here and there.” At this she looks up again and meets Emma’s curious gaze. “Henry didn’t share much about it once we realized that you—well.”

“Died?” Emma tries to fill in.

Regina nods.  

And then there is an awkward silence between them. Somewhere, a clock is ticking. Emma is desperately thinking of something to say, but before she can come up with anything, Regina beats her to the punch. “How do you feel?”

Emma shrugs. “I should be asking you that. You got drugged by some fairy dust shit.”

Regina blinks at that. And then starts to chuckle that morphs into genuine laughter.

Emma joins her with a confused snort and shrugs. “What? It’s true.”

Regina, who is still pretty close to her, touches her arm. “You are still you,” she smiles in wonder and takes her arm away again.

Emma is mildly embarrassed to realize how much she craves even a simple touch like that. She hopes that her grimace looks nothing like her emotions swirling inside her. “You had the dagger,” Emma says and clears her throat. “Rumple gave it to you?”

“He did. And he told us in vague terms how you might return,” Regina replies, one hand over her stomach. “I wasn’t sure what to think of what he’s told us. I—” She stops when she hears Hook’s angry shouting. She glances towards the bedroom door. “Who else is in my house?”

“Hook, Zelena and Mal,” Emma says with no hesitation and watches how Regina’s eyes widen again. “Well, and Henry, of course.”

“Mal as in Maleficent? And Zelena, how is she—”

“Turns out none of us really died. Don’t ask me how Mal isn’t dead, I’m pretty sure I got her real good with that sword, but it seems that magic has its own rules.” Emma can’t help how dark and bitter her voice gets towards the end.

Regina flinches a little, hand still over her stomach. Judging by her now guarded look on her face Emma is not doing a good job of not reminding people that she’s the Dark One now. “I see,” is all Regina says before she starts to leave the room. She stops at the door. “Are you coming?”

Emma wordlessly follows her, hating herself for lacking the tact to be her old self around people that matter the most to her.  

**Author's Note:**

> and no, you won't have to wait years for the rest. i'm almost completely done with the next chapter + epilogue. I SWEAR.


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